


Daisies Like Poison Under Her Skin

by Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)



Series: A Killer and a Liar Walk into the Inquisition: The Love Story of Kenna Cadash and Thom Rainier [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Class Differences, F/M, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Poverty, Pre-Relationship, Self-Hatred, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:00:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26127637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold
Summary: Kenna Cadash finds that Blackwall has fallen asleep and been decorated by Cole. She's unable to deny her feelings for the Warden any longer.
Relationships: Blackwall/Female Cadash (Dragon Age), Blackwall/Female Inquisitor, Kenna Cadash/Blackwall
Series: A Killer and a Liar Walk into the Inquisition: The Love Story of Kenna Cadash and Thom Rainier [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1897177
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	Daisies Like Poison Under Her Skin

Kenna Cadash knew who was responsible for this, but Cole was nowhere to be found for questioning. Not that Kenna really needed to question the spirit, the crime itself was fairly obvious. The reasons for this random action a bit more mysterious, but it wasn’t like Kenna got straight answers out of Cole very often to begin with.

Maybe he’d just done it to make her smile. Stone knew she had little enough reason to with the weight of the sodding world on her shoulders. 

She shook her head, taking in the sight before her one more time. Ser Blackwall reclined back in the emerald grass of their camp, pack beneath his head, snoozing in the open air. Kenna tipped her head to the side, considering the small white daisies threaded through the man’s dark hair. There had to be a dozen of them at least, tucked behind Blackwall’s ears, sprinkling his beard, forming a halo around his temples. He was… cute like this. 

The former Carta assassin inside her rebelled uniformly. Kenna Cadash did not think things were adorable, it was beneath her. 

And yet, her heart softened somewhere in her chest. Perhaps it was simply the sight of this mountainous man utterly relaxed, wreathed in flowers, decorated like a name day present just for her. 

So few things, after all, had ever just been hers. 

“Blackwall.” She nudged him gently with the toe of her boot. “Blaaackwall.” 

He rumbled awake like a bear in springtime, grunting as his eyes flickered open, but the instant he caught sight of her his lips curled into a bewilderingly kind smile, one that coaxed bright blooms up from a soul she thought dead and barren. Then he said the magic words. “My lady?” 

She could weep every time she heard them, but she schooled her expression into playful insolence and nudged him again with her boot. “Sleeping on the job?” 

“Never, my lady.” He managed to look affronted. “It was not my turn to watch, now was it?”

Of course it wasn’t. Blackwall would never falter on his watch, particularly when Kenna’s safety was on the line. How many times had she heard him upbraiding a scout for nodding off, reminding them that the Inquisitor’s life rested in their hands? 

“You’ve got something in your hair.” She let her lips curl upwards in a teasing grin. “Want me to get it out?” 

“I’m sure I can manage…” Blackwall made to heft his body from the soft grass.

Kenna was faster. 

She straddled his torso in a heartbeat and he went still as a statue beneath her, eyes wary, but even a blind man would notice the sharp spike of heat in his dark gaze. He couldn’t hide the way his eyes scorched her curves on the way to her splayed thighs spread almost uncomfortably wide over his broad form.

Ancestors, to have a man like this underneath her… the things she could do. She’d ruin him for anyone else. 

Or he’d ruin her with his stupid my ladying like he was a knight from Varric’s worst stories and she some noble princess instead of a lucky duster. 

She reached out her fingers and snatched one of the daisies from his beard, holding it up to his eyes with a smirk. “Cole made you very pretty, Ser Blackwall.” 

“Maker’s balls.” The man sputtered and bucked underneath her, going red as a tomato under his beard. “That lad! When I…” 

She couldn’t help herself. She didn’t want to help herself anymore. She wanted. She wanted. 

She fisted one hand in his doublet and pulled him to her mouth with brutal efficiency. She crashed her lips against his, a battering ram begging for entrance, and he threw up a white flag immediately. His hands on her spread thighs, fingers bruising through her trousers, her name in his throat, her real name, the one nobody used anymore. “Kenna…” 

Kenna Cadash. Kenna the assassin. Kenna the duster. Kenna from the Carta. 

Damn him. Damn him to the void and back. 

She shoved him back down and tore off him in a moment, trying to wipe his taste from her lips, but she knew she wouldn’t succeed.

Blackwall and those daisies had gotten underneath her skin like poison. She’d never get them out.

**Author's Note:**

> I really like dwarves, okay? Come talk to me about my obsessions at [@cartadwarfwithaheartofgold](http://cartadwarfwithaheartofgold.tumblr.com).


End file.
